


Dead End Kids

by TheGreatGreyBeast



Category: Diary of a Wimpy Kid Series - Jeff Kinney
Genre: Battle of the Bands, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Summer Fic, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:01:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24798853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatGreyBeast/pseuds/TheGreatGreyBeast
Summary: Rodrick Heffley is a loser. But, at least he's a loser with a van, a band, and a gang of friends. With summer in their sights and music in their hearts, can these nobodies really come out on top?
Relationships: Löded Diper & Rodrick Heffley, Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Rodrick Heffley/Ben Segal
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	1. Mall Crawl (To The Rest of Our Lives)

“I’ve been hit! Man down!”

“Aw, get up! It’s only noodles you wuss!”

The Plainview mall food-court had become a food war zone for the boys of Löded Diper, the baddest of the bad, the hardest of the hardcore.

“Which one of you snot rockets got gum in my hair?”

Or so they’d tell you.

The food court was in a state of disarray, they’d obviously never seen a battle quite as epic as this.People left en masse, kids were crying, some people even cowered behind the thin metal food court chairs, hoping for some slight shelter against the carnage.

_Oh_ , it’s on.

Rodrick, the leader and drummer, stood on top of the wobbly tables and absolutely pelted everyone and everything in his path with chicken alfredo, having the time of his life.

Chris, bassist and wise shaman, lay stunned on the garishly painted food court tile, unable to recover after slipping on Rodrick’s chicken Alfredo ambush.

Ben, lead singer and guitarist, ran across the room after Rodrick armed with Sbarros pizza and bread sticks, throwing pizza like a frisbee and using a food tray as a shield to deflect the noodles starting to come his way. He weaved around food court guests and hopped over any chair that stood in his way.

“Watch out Rod, when I’m done with you you’ll smell like garlic for weeks!” Ben threatened, thrusting a bread stick up in the air like a sword, finally coming face to face with Rodrick.

  
“I’m not afraid of you, gum-hair.” Rodrick said as he smacked Ben’s bread stick out of his hand.

  
“HEY! That was my last stick man!”

  
“Why don’t you eat it off the floor then?” He laughed.

The two let their guards down to bicker back and forth, both frantically trying to find something to make fun of the other for; “What about the time YOU peed your pants in third grade, and you were too embarrassed to tell anyone or call home so you were the pee kid the whole day!”-- “That can’t be any worse than when YOU jumped off the high dive and your shorts came off and you flashed the lifeguard!”-- “Well, what about that time you called Coach Malone MOM!” They angrily gestured with their hands as they fought, obviously very heated and trying to make a point.

Unfortunately for them, Chris took this as his opportunity to strike. 

While they argued, Chris sat up from his place on the floor like Dracula emerging from his coffin. Cautiously, he reached down to the chicken tenders and fries sitting in his pockets. He checked to make sure his friends weren’t paying attention, intending to make a deadly sneak attack. With two chicken tenders, one in each hand, he hurled them as hard as humanly possible, aiming straight for his friends’ heads. 

The boys were completely oblivious as the tenders flew through the air. The first one smacked Rodrick square in the forehead, scaring him so bad he fell backwards off of the table he was on. The attack made Ben jump a bit before he rushed to help pick Rodrick up off of the floor, but as soon as his back was turned his fate was sealed. The tender hit him in the back of the head, bounced off, and skidded across the floor. 

Ben turned around and looked at the fallen tender for a moment. He looked at Chris who was still lying on the floor with a smug smile, surrounded by cold fries that had fallen out of his many cargo-pants pockets. He shifted to look at Rodrick who looked sad and defeated sitting on the floor with chicken alfredo sludge all down the front of his shirt. He looked down at himself to see his entire outfit was covered in pizza sauce, garlic, and pepperonis. He remembered the gum that was still stuck in his hair. 

The sight of the three of them was too much. Little giggles started to spill out of Ben. The sight of Rodrick’s disappointed frown pushed him over the edge into snort laughing territory. Ben was absolutely losing it, how could the three of them look so lame right now? 

Ben’s glee was infectious, the boys could never keep a straight face when he got like this. Chris laughed so hard he accidentally inhaled a fry he was eating, filling the food court with distressed choking. This made Ben even more hysterical. He flopped on the floor cry laughing, unable to stand anymore in his condition. Seeing Ben throw himself on the floor made Rodrick crack up too, shedding his sad look for a new joyous one. Chris finally spit out the offending fry and his choking returned to a laughing fit. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” A voice barked. A huge mall security officer had come over to see what all the chaos was about. 

The boys jumped to their feet, standing at attention, afraid of what might happen to them. They spoke all at once in a flurry of voices; “Nothing sir!”--- “We were just having fun man, come on!”--- “Rodrick started it, I didn’t even wanna DO a food fight, I promise, please don’t kick us out!”

  
“Look at this huge mess! You guys know that the poor janitors have to clean this up? I should have YOU do it instead.” This man clearly was not to be messed with. 

Rodrick stepped forward to fulfill his duty of being leader. 

“Hey uh-” He looked closely at the janitor’s shirt to read his name tag “Dave! Sweet sweet Dave, I promise it’ll never happen again, you know, kids make _mistakes_. But we, uhhh, we have somewhere else to be right now...” He said, trying to quickly walk away and distance himself from the situation. 

Dave was not having it. At all. He stopped Rodrick in his tracks. 

The boys shared a fearful look. What were they supposed to do? 

Chris stepped forward, taking a chance. “I am so sorry sir.” He said, in his quietest and most respectful voice. 

“Do you really think that’s gonna cut it? Look at the state of this place.”

He was right, it was trashed. Everyone who hadn’t left yet sat in silence and glared at the boys, secretly hoping they’d get banned for getting food on their overpriced shoes. 

It was Ben’s turn to try and save the day. He took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry Dave, I did want to food fight, I lied, it wasn’t just Rodrick, and sorry for the huge mess, even though it was one of the best things I’ve ever done, please don’t kick us out or ban us from the mall, I only hang out at three places and the mall is one of them and this is the only place I can get my favorite hair gel-”

“Okokok kid, you’re fine, I don’t need to know your whole life story.” Dave said, cutting off Ben’s rambling with a wave of his hand. 

Ben looked confused. “You don’t?”

Dave looked each boy in the eyes, staring into their souls. They squirmed in agony. 

Then suddenly, he let out a huge burst of good humored laughter. The boys stood wide-eyed. 

“Ok, I’m gonna be real with you, I’m just giving you shit. Leave the food court, and I’ll let you off with a warning, since you apologized, and since I know you all are a bit too dull to get into real trouble.” 

“Really??” Rodrick said, not believing that they managed to weasel their way out of this one. 

“Yeah, really. But I better not catch you destroying any other part of my mall, ok? Do not make me regret having mercy on you.”

The boys whooped with triumph and fist pumped the air.

“Thank you Dave, I promise you won’t regret this.” Chris said, and he meant it. 

“Smell you later Dave, thanks for saving our butts out there today.” Rodrick stated, rather eloquently. “But you guys, I think it’s time we head out. I’LL RACE YOU TO THE BATHROOM!”

With that Rodrick and Chris bounded off for the bathrooms. Ben shot Dave a quick rock on sign to show his gratitude and ran off after them. 

\-------------

“I just think it’s funny you think you’re a good sport.” Chris said dryly.  
  
“Thank you! I am funny, huh. And _such_ a good sport, even though I crushed you guys in that race.” Rodrick fixed his hair in the mirror.

“Hey, I came in second. At least I didn’t blow it like Ben did.” Chris defended.  
  
“Will you two ever shut up about the race? It’s OVER. Plus, I’m gonna win the next one anyway.”  
  
“ _Oh_ , what makes you say that?” Rodrick turned his back to the mirror to stare Ben in the face, always one for a challenge. 

Ben started to sweat, this was way, WAY, too much attention for him.

“Nothin!” He tried to work up some confidence for a comeback, but nothing was coming to him. Better to just make fun of Rodrick. “I mean, why? Are you tryin to scare me into losing or something? I bet you’re just scared I’ll win next time.” He said, as he faked having a backbone. 

Rodrick made a big show of how “offended” he was. “Am not dude! Ugh. I can’t believe you would say that about me, your bestest friend in the whole world!” He dropped the melodramatic act and laughed. 

“I have grease and Alfredo sauce all over the back of my pants, do you guys think it’s a good idea to take ‘em off?” Chris said. 

Ben’s jaw dropped, the audacity of this kid. “You’re gonna strip and hang out around the mall bathroom?” 

“Chris that is _the_ funniest idea you’ve had all day. You do what your heart tells you to do, buddy.” said Rodrick.

“Well, my heart is telling me to take my pants off.” He started shuffling out of his pants, exposing his black and white checkered boxer shorts underneath. He threw them in the sink in front of him and drowned them in hot water. “Oh yeah, it’s all coming together.”

“You’re crazy dude. I’m gonna try to get this gum outta my hair.” Ben said, claiming the sink on the right of Chris, trying to forget what he saw. He looked in the mirror to assess the damage. A huge piece of pink bubblegum stuck out of the top of his frosted tips. He tugged at it but it only made it worse. 

“Do you think you’ll have to cut the gum out? What if we buzz cut your hair! I think that’ll give the band a more punk rock look, right?” Rodrick was way too quick to ruin his look and murder his sweet frosted tips. 

“No, I’m good. Why don’t you get a buzz cut? It could look coool.” He continued to struggle with his hair.  
  
“Maybe I will. As the leader of the band you do what you gotta do.” Said Rodrick, as serious as the grave. “How’re the pants going over there big guy?”

“A bit soggy, and smell like Italian, but good!” Chris held up his dripping cargo pants. He shook them wildly to flick water all over the boys. 

“What was that for??” Rodrick and Ben asked at the same time. Jinx.  
  
“I’m trying to dry them out.”

“Go dry them out with the hand dryers, genius.” Rodrick said. 

“Yes, Sir!” Saluted Chris. He crossed over to the dryers and slapped the on button, blasting the pants with heat. He was going to use the dryers anyway, he just wanted to mess with those dopes first. While he was drying he noticed the Löded Diper sticker they had stuck to the wall by the dryers one of the other times they had visited, it was their trademark.

Without thinking, Rodrick tore off his black t-shirt and overhand tossed it into the sink in front of him and turned on the faucet. He was blindingly white without a shirt, but what do you expect from a kid who never goes outside? He flexed his nonexistent muscles. “Check out _these_ guns!” He gave a few poses to show off. 

“Just wash your shirt.” Ben said, suddenly feeling out of breath. 

“Yeah hurry up man, it’s 2x brighter in here with your shirt off, I can’t even see.” Chris joked.

“HEY! I backed you up on your no pants thing, you should have my back on this! And I’m hot and you know it, man. It would be a gift to the whole mall if I kept this shirt off.” Rodrick wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

Chris howled with laughter. Ben dunked his head under the running faucet to escape his violent embarrassment. 

“But I’ll steal all the girls from you guys if I do that, so I’ll put my shirt back on. For the bro code.” Rodrick said, trying to backpedal and still keep face. He wrung out his shirt and squeezed it back on. 

Ben gasped from the water and brought his head back up to the mirror dripping wet. His hair was a limp mess. That mixed with the gum made it unfixable. “I give up dude. I guess I just look like this now.” He said with a sigh. 

“You do look like you dunked your head in a toilet, _but_ that could be cool for you.” Rodrick mustered up his best compliment. 

Chris walked over with perfectly dried pants on. “You look fine! It kinda reminds me of two summers ago when you gave yourself those dyed emo bangs.” 

Ben dry-heaved. “Nooo don’t say that! That cut was awful man. That summer was so boring, I had to find somethin to do.” That was during his very intense Pete Wentz phase. 

“That summer was like every other summer we have though.” Chris said, stating facts. 

“Yeah. But that was when you were grounded for two weeks and Rod was on vacation, so I chopped my hair off ‘cause I had nothin else to do.” And because he wanted to look like teen heartthrob/emo star Pete Wentz.

Rodrick frowned a bit at the conversation.

  
The impromptu haircut was the only interesting thing to happen that whole summer. The summer before that was absolutely dull, and two summers before that was abysmally forgettable. With Rodrick in hibernation, Ben’s around the clock babysitting, and Chris’s job at the record store, they never had free time to hang out or jam even once. What good was having a rockin’ band that never played?

A loud _PING_ echoed off the bathroom walls and startled the boys. Chris fished his crumb covered phone out of his pocket. He wiped it off on his shirt and checked the text. “Hey not to be a drag but I gotta head out. Got called into work.”

“Aw do you have to? We could still ride the mall train or try on free eyeliner at the makeup stand downstairs.” Ben said with puppy dog eyes. The mall train is way too small for them and covered in sticky little kid hand prints, and the eyeliner is shitty, but they like to have fun. 

“Nope gotta go. R can you drive me home?”

“You can’t skip out on work this one time?” Rodrick asked.  
  
“If I miss work we can’t get old punk CDs anymore, and YOU can’t take naps in the break room whenever you want.” He said. 

Rodrick sighed. “Ok fine, I’ll take you home. Can we stop by the Topic to check out the shows before we go?” 

“Yeah, we can.” Chris said fondly. The other two wasted no time, they pushed him out of the bathroom in a hurry, almost hitting some guy and his son on the way out. The Topic was just three or four stores down. 

\--------------

While they walked, Rodrick became lost in thought. He had something to get off his chest. It was about this summer. It was something important to him, but it also was something he struggled to talk about to the guys. What if they thought it was stupid? It felt like a heavy weight on his chest crushing him. He gathered the courage and nudged his friends, “What _are_ we gonna do this summer?” he said with heavy importance. 

“Probably nothing.” Ben joked. 

“NO. That’s not allowed this summer. Give me fun stuff, cool stuff.”

“Maybe we could throw rocks at cars by the overpass?” Chris said.

Rodrick scoffed. “That’s dangerous and probably illegal! We’ll do that at night. Any other ideas?”

“We should hang out with the stoner kids on the train tracks. This one guy there has a crazy tech deck collection I wanna see.” Said Ben, tech deck extraordinaire. He was too uncoordinated to skate, but he could tech deck like a pro.

“No no no, you guys are thinking too small. This summer has to be wild! This summer we get rich and famous.” Rodrick said with urgency. 

“Why this summer?” Chris asked, feeling the weight of Rodrick’s plan. 

Because... Because time’s running out, Rodrick thought. Because after this summer we graduate, and we might never see each other again. We’ll go our own ways, and years of being friends will mean dick. Because it’ll be an excuse to be together all summer instead of being lame all alone. Because this summer might keep us together, and I don’t know what’d I’d do without you guys. I don’t know what I do without messing around in the mall with you, or without driving super fast over huge speed bumps with you, or without finding cool music together at the record store, or without band practices in the garage with you guys. Why _not_ this summer? We’re going to be famous anyway, because we’re the best band in town! So let's just do it and have some fun this summer, before it’s too late. The thoughts in Rodrick’s brain split off in eighteen different directions, and it sent his mind spinning. He couldn’t actually say any of that mushy stuff. But he had to say _something,_ so he rattled off the first thing that came to mind. 

“Just because I want to. And so that girls think we’re cool.” He lied. 

“Is it because this is our last summer before graduation together?” Ben said, nailing exactly what Rodrick was really thinking. 

“Oh hey, yeah, I didn’t even think of that! That too.” 

Chris said with the inflection of a 90's hacker, “We’re here.”

They stood at the gates of edgy kid salvation, THE place to go when you go to the mall. The smell of teenage desperation and overpriced band shirts wafted through the open doors. The glass windows stretched for miles up to where they connected to the bold black sign, a sign declaring this place to be Hot Topic. 

The boys crossed the threshold and made a beeline to the back of the store on a very important mission. They fought and pushed through the throngs of people. There was a summer sale, and they were smack dab in the middle of it. They got dirty looks and confused glances for their busted looks and awful smell. In the fray, Rodrick tripped over a huge stand of nail polish, and sent a dozen bottles tumbling down. They clanked to the floor and rolled around all over the place. They pushed on. At the halfway point they saw a crazy punk chick with dyed red mohawk working the cashier, arguing with someone’s mom. Ben mentally sent her some good luck as they pushed forward. After a scuffle, they finally came out of the crowd unscathed at the back end of the Topic. They stood panting as they caught their breath. 

“It’s not summer for another week! We could’ve died in there.” Ben thought out loud. 

Rodrick rubbed his hands together excitedly. “Shows, summer shows, come to papa!” He stood in front of the huge bulletin board covered haphazardly in papers. It was here you could find what bands were playing where in town, various meetups for metalheads or emo kids, a couple guitar teacher’s fliers scattered here and there, and vulgar graffiti done in sharpie by twelve year olds. But the boys were only interested in whether or not their favorite bands were playing in the next three months. 

Rodrick dragged a finger down the list of bands, his nose almost touching the paper as he focused. 

“Anything good?” Chris said. 

Rodrick hunched in disappointment. “Nothing other than some country singers for sixty year olds.” Another paper caught his eye. “Wait, what’s that one up there? That’s new!” A wide lavender paper that looked important was stapled to the board above the band list, a little too high up to be seen properly. “I can’t see it, pick me up!” 

“Nope.” Chris said.

“You’re bigger than me dude, no.” Ben huffed. 

“Welp. No choice then.” Rodrick bent, picked up Ben, and hoisted him onto his shoulders (much to Ben’s dismay). 

“NO, put me down!” He blushed from head to toe, hating this idea. “This sucks!” 

“Shut up, you’re the shortest out of the three of us! Read what the paper says!” Rodrick insisted. 

“I’m only three inches shorter than you!”

“JUST READ THE PAPER.”

He grumbled and relented. “Fine. But hold still, you’re moving too much.” Ben squinted to see the words better. He read aloud, “Plainview’s 35th Annual Battle of The Bands! Rock the night away, win prize money, and get the chance to be signed to a major record label. Auditions May 31st!”

  
“ _Woah_.” Chris knew that this poster dictated the future of their entire summer. 

“WHAT!” Rodrick exclaimed. “This May 31st right? In two weeks? You’re not messing with me?”

“Man, why would I mess with you, it says it right here.” He tapped the paper. “Can you put me down now?”

“Snatch the poster first!” Rodrick shook with ecstatic energy. Ben fumbled to take the poster off the wall with the extra movement below, but finally tore it off and held it gleefully above his head.

“Got it!” 

Rodrick set Ben down gently on the ground and tore the poster from his hands. He stared at it hard, trying to absorb every word. He took a steady breath to calm himself. 

“Look guys!” They all gathered around the poster. “Now this is what I’m talking about! This is what we’re doing this summer!” Rodrick beamed. “We gotta get a set together! What song do you guys wanna do? Should we bring merch? CD’s? Eyeliner, yes or no? What do we wear? There’s just so much-”

“We have two weeks to figure that out R.” Chris soothed Rodrick’s franticness by grabbing his shoulders and giving him a little shake to bring him back to real life. 

“Do you guys know what this means for us? This is our time! We might actually get our big break!” Rodrick could hardly believe their luck. 

That poster in the crowded Hot Topic could change the course of their lives forever. And the boys felt it. This felt like what they were supposed to be doing, the path they were supposed to be on. Was this their destiny? Had the years of listening to punk bands, playing on second hand instruments, and being a trio of best friends lead them to this?

\---------------   
“Hey dude, can you drive me home now?”


	2. School's Out (For Summer!)

Muffled music blared from the Löded Diper van in the Crossland High School parking lot. The lot sat full of cars but devoid of people, except for the three amigos. 

Inside, the boys jammed out to old rock CD’s. Rodrick headbanged and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat while Ben enthusiastically sang the lyrics a bit too loud. “WATCH OUT FOR THE ROCK BRIGADE! _ROCK BRIGADE!_ OH NO IT’S THE ROCK BRIGADE!” Chris sat in the back and bobbed his head along, munching some chips. 

“LOOK OUT FOR THE ROCK BRIGADE! LEADING YOU AWAYYY! OH, I love this guitar solo!” Ben put his guitarist skills to work as he broke out into the sickest, meanest air guitar solo you’ve ever seen. His fingers shredded the invisible strings with a passion. 

Rodrick peeked his head around the driver’s seat headrest to look at Chris. “Throw me a chip dude!” Chris grinned, he grabbed a chip and tossed it Rodrick’s way. Rodrick dove backwards to catch it with an open mouth. “I got it!” He in fact, did not have it. It missed his mouth completely and shattered into a bunch of chip shards on the floor. 

“One more, I’ll get it this time.” Chris threw again. Rodrick opened his mouth as wide as possible for best maximum chip catching. He held his head still this time, thinking it would give him a leg up. The chip smacked Rodrick in the eye and fell to the floor. 

“You have to move your head to catch it. Duh.” Chris pushed up his glasses, smudging the bridge of them. 

“I _know that_.” He said grumpily. “Keep ‘em coming, I’m gonna catch one.”

“Ok.” Chris rapid fire shot chip after chip at Rodrick. Rodrick desperately leaned back and forth trying to catch just a single chip. Crumbs covered the van floor from the botched catches. 

“You guys are distracting me from this killer guitar solo, catch it already Rod or give up.” Ben teased. 

“It’s not my fault Chris sucks at throwing! If he wasn’t I would’ve caught all of these.” The three had an awful habit of constantly challenging each other. A little playful competition never hurt anyone. 

“Throw me one.” Ben said with a sly smile. Chris threw. 

“If I can’t do it there’s no way you-” 

Ben caught it between his teeth, just an inch from Rodrick’s face. He let out a happy “YES!”, feeling great that he didn’t fail after he played it all cool. He bit into the chip and looked up to gloat in Rodrick’s face, but Rodrick was flushed red and embarrassed. Rodrick looked like he wanted to back off, but nervously stayed close. He never got flustered like that. 

Once Ben registered the weird vibes radiating off Rodrick he blushed and retreated all the way back into his seat. His body hugged the car door trying to be as far from his friend as possible. Chris’s hand snaked up to his seat from the back in a fistbump to congratulate Ben on his great catch. Ben gratefully fistbumped him back, feeling a little more normal. 

Rodrick shrugged off the awkwardness and reached out to turn the radio way down. He cleared his throat loudly and theatrically, indicating he wanted the boys’ full attention. “Let’s get serious.” He said. “Auditions are next week and we need to **rock**.”

“Why don’t we go practice? We could get some good jam time in.” Ben said. 

“Because we’re still supposed to be in school genius, you know my mom would kill me if she caught me skipping it.” Rodrick argued. 

“We’re out of school now. And it’s the last day of school, does it matter?” Chris wondered. 

“And she won’t find out about that! It matters to my mom, and if we want to _actually_ audition next week I have to stay on her good side. Sitting in the parking lot is the closest thing to skipping school I can get. We’re staying for another,” He checked the time. “fifteen minutes ‘til school gets out. So down to business. What song are we gonna do?”

“Not ‘Exploded Diper’, that was a flop at the talent show two years ago.” Chris solemnly said. All the talent show brought them was a feud with Bill, the band kids from school making fun of them, rude comments on YouTube, and absolutely zero chicks. Plus Rodrick never lived down his mom showing him up. But, at least more people knew they existed after that. 

“And not ‘Baby’ either, Heather almost murdered us at her birthday last summer.” Ben said. 

Rodrick cringed hard at the memory of that catastrophe. Heather Hills was not a force to be reckoned with. “We don’t talk about that. And that show was the best we ever did, Heather just isn’t fun enough to _get_ it. Too bad she has a huge crush on me, I’d never date her.”

Chris cocked an eyebrow. “You weren’t saying that at Heather’s birthday.”

“Whatever. She wants me, I hate her, end of story. So come ON, what song are we doing? What about ‘Devil’s Diper’?” Rodrick asked. 

“Hm. That one’s good, it rocks and its way easy to play. But it might be... slow. Let’s do ‘T In Tuff’. Fast, loud, kicking bass line, we’ll shred the faces off the judges!” Chris said excitedly. 

“Dude that’s my favorite one! I get to yell through the whole thing! We should do it.” Ben agreed. “Plus it has that sweet drum solo in the middle for you Rod.”

“Aw yeah! That’s our song then! This is why I have you guys in my band, you know how to make the... Tuff decisions.” Rodrick laughed at his dumb joke. The other boys weren’t amused. 

“We’re in _our_ band because you can’t sing or play bass.” Chris teased. 

“Hey wait, that’s not right. He can’t play guitar either!” Ben joked back. 

Rodrick made a sound of indignation. “This is bullying dude, don’t make me kick you out of the band.” He said, half joking. 

“Ok, sorry. You can’t play guitar or bass, but you _can_ sing if that makes you feel better.” Ben said. 

“Really?” Rodrick said, feeling slightly touched.

Ben smiled. “Yeah really dude.” He patted Rodrick on the back for emphasis. There wasn’t that tense air about the two of them anymore, so physical contact felt right. 

“School’s almost out.” Chris said, checking the time. 

“Hey, did we put any stickers on the outside of the school?” Rodrick asked, completely unrelated. 

“No. There’s some in the bathrooms, the lunchroom, Jensen’s class, the computer labs, and one on Principal Lu’s car. None outside.” Chris said. It’s a wonder they never got caught for being sticker vandals. 

“Ok, cover my back then.” Rodrick popped open the center console and grabbed a Löded Diper sticker from the stash. He hauled ass out of the car (still making sure to look both ways) and ran towards the school. 

“Cover your back from what?” Ben yelled to him out of the window, confused. The parking lot was still empty, and there were no threats to cover him from. 

As soon as Rodrick was in range, he took a running jump to slap the sticker on as high as he could get it on the brick wall. He took a few steps back to admire his handiwork. The band had made their mark on the school, even though it was just with small bumper stickers. When they win the battle of the bands this summer and get rich and famous they’ll surely leave a real mark on the school, a big mark. People will ask “Wasn’t that famous band from here?”. Or they’ll visit Crossland High just to see where the young musical minds created and learned. They’ll go to Löded Diper concerts and scream their names. Or, that’s what the boys thought, anyway. 

Satisfied with what he’d done, Rodrick jogged back to the van. He pulled the door open and hopped back into the front seat. “Löded Diper strikes again!” He said mischievously. The bell rang and echoed into the parking lot, soon crowds of people were shuffling out of the school for the last time this year. 

“You guys want to go to mine to practice?” Rodrick questioned the two. 

“I gotta go to work. Tomorrow?” Chris said as he slid open the van’s side door. He stepped out and slammed it shut. He got into his ancient Subaru Outback parked right next to the van and patted the wheel lovingly before starting it up. He rolled down the window to hear his friends. 

“Yeah I’m cool with that.” Rodrick answered through the open passenger window. “What about you?” He asked Ben. 

“I’m down.” Ben said. That was the plan then. 

The three shared a rock-on sign and pulled out of the parking lot, separating into two different directions. Ben always got a ride home from Rodrick after school because he was the only one without a car. Rodrick never minded though, he loved quality bro time (not that he’d ever say that). 

Ben dug through the dirty glove box to find a new CD. He fished out a Quiet Riot CD and replaced the Def Leppard in the player. Rodrick started drumming his fingers in delight. “This one bangs dude!” With his eyes still on the road, he reached with his right hand to crank up the volume slightly. Ben gave off a small lopsided grin, proud of his song selection. They danced as much as they could in their seats. Once the chorus hit, Rodrick was too absorbed in the song to drive well. He gave the van a little too much gas and had to slam on his breaks at lights, and took corners too wide too fast. This didn’t rattle Ben in the slightest, anyone who knew Rodrick awhile knew his need for speed and affinity for below average driving. They flew over speed bumps like they were nothing.

The speed died when they rolled up to a red light. Rodrick sat impatiently. A group of girls walked through the crosswalk in front of the van. It was Heather Hills and a trio of her friends giggling at some joke and holding up traffic. 

“Look, it’s your favorite person.” Ben said deadpan, also bummed about this lack of speed. 

“Ugh, no.” Rodrick glared the group down. They slowly but surely made their way across the road onto the sidewalk, not returning his gaze. The light turned green, and the van shot off down the road. 

“You really hate Heather now, huh? You really wouldn’t date her?” Ben said, curious about what Rodrick had said earlier. 

“Absolutely **not**. Why?”

In reality, Ben didn’t know why he asked. A small part of him just had this need to know Rodrick’s answer. It’s not like he _liked_ Heather, so he didn’t know why it mattered. “Just askin.” He shrugged. “It was like you really liked her and then, didn’t. I was thinkin maybe you liked someone else?”

“What? Nahhh, that’s nothing. I just don’t like her now. I’m not into anybody right now I think.” Rodrick took a left. 

“Oh ok.” For some reason that answer left a small pit in Ben’s stomach. Why? It had nothing to do with him so he didn’t know why he was feeling that way. Maybe I’m just really hungry, he thought. That’s what the pit is.

Rodrick chimed in to change the subject as they turned onto Ben’s street. “You guys should crash at my house after practice tomorrow! To kick off the summer!” 

That lightened Ben’s spirits a bit. “Yeah let’s do it! I miss that.” They rolled to a stop in his driveway. 

“Me too!” Rodrick turned off the car and put on the parking brake, he turned to look at Ben. He noticed something different about his friend. “Hey, did you change your hair?” 

Ben looked confused. “You didn’t notice? I had to get that gum cut out, remember? So I got a new look.” He ran his hands through his hair. His frosted tips still lived on, but the sides were shaved and the hair on top was cut slightly shorter. He thought it looked more punk rock that way. 

“It’s… nice.” Rodrick said awkwardly. 

Ben chuckled. “It doesn’t sound like it.”

“No no I’m sorry it is nice I’m just, bad at compliments.” 

Rodrick’s sincerity threw him a bit. “Well thanks Rod. I, uh, like it too.” They sat looking at each other, not really sure where to go in this conversation. Ben fidgeted with his hands, they had been quiet too long. 

Rodrick went in for a fistbump, floundering for anything to break the silence. “See you tomorrow?” 

“See ya tomorrow.” He fistbumped back with the smallest hint of a smile. He grabbed his backpack from the floor and hurried out of the car to his front door. Before he went in he turned around and waved Rodrick goodbye, then slipped inside. 

Alone, Rodrick exhaled a huge breath slowly, and started the ignition. 

\--------------

Hours passed. The sun was tucked behind the mountains in the distance, painting the town in reds and pinks before it finished its descent. With his curtains drawn shut, Rodrick’s room was dark. His white Christmas lights on the adjacent wall were all he had to see by. They gave a soft white glow to the room that fuzzed the sides of his vision. He felt like he was speeding endlessly through a dark tunnel, with the clinical lights overhead blinding him and stretching forever forward. He tried to pump the brakes, to stop before disaster, but nothing happened, and he sped on. He felt like the tunnel looped in a circle, around and around in his brain, and he wanted to escape. 

He sighed, then walked over to his sticker covered CD player and pressed play. He didn’t care what he listened to, he just needed some sound. Fall Out Boy’s ‘From Under The Cork Tree’ started playing. He felt something in his chest squeeze when he remembered Ben had put that CD in there the last time he came over; It’s one of his favorites. 

He threw himself on his unmade bed and laid on his back. He stared with droopy eyes at the plaster cracks on the ceiling. A small patch of plaster above him looked exactly like a smiley face. He frowned. Are you making fun of me? He rubbed his face like he could wipe off his unease. 

What is wrong with me? I’m being a baby about nothing. I feel like I’m going to throw up, and I don’t even know why. I’m not _sick_ sick, it’s not like that one time I got food poisoning and laid in bed with a stomach ache for a week. But I feel like trash. Nothing even happened today. I went to school, skipped out at lunch, hung with the guys, then drove Ben home. Ben… this might be about him. I started feeling weird when he caught that chip in my face, and then I felt even worse in his driveway...

He felt frustrated, it was hard for him to put his feelings into words, and even harder to put them into thoughts. Thoughts were more abstract that way. 

Why am I being like this? It’s the first day out of school and I’m acting like a jerk. Ben’s my best friend, so why do I feel so weird about him? When I said nice stuff about his hair my hands were all sweaty, like when I used to talk to Heather. And Tara. And Lisa. And Kimberly. And Cassie. But that was because I was into them. I’m not into Ben, that’s… weird. He’s my best friend. And i’m not gay. Definitely not gay. And Ben’s not either. So why was I all sweaty? And why does my head get cloudy when we look at each other too long? And why is it so awkward when we’re quiet? Why do my hands get shaky when we’re too close? We’ve known each other since seventh grade and now I’m being stupid about him for no reason. I told him in the car I didn’t like anybody, and that’s right. I don’t like Ben like that. It can’t be that. So what’s wrong with me?

He sat and his thoughts raced. He was grasping for anything in his brain that could make sense of the jumbled feelings. 

It’s because we graduate next year, he guessed. We graduate next year and we might not see each other anymore. That’s it. I’m sad about **both** Chris and Ben. They’re both my best friends and I don’t want to lose them. I was alone with Ben today, that’s why I’m thinking about him more. Yeah. 

This thought gave him solace enough to ease some of the discomfort he felt. He rolled over on his side exhausted. His heart rate calmed and followed the beat of the song playing. The words cascaded in his ears as he fell further into sleep: “Joke me something awful just like kisses on the necks of best friends, “


	3. Saturday Night Frights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some fun and shenanigans before shit goes down.

“Mom, my friends are coming over. PLEASE don’t embarrass me when they get here.” Rodrick yelled to the kitchen from the couch. He texted his friends back. Mid-text he pulled out a stale pretzel from underneath himself, blew on it, and popped it into his mouth with a crunch.

“Oh honey, I’d never do that to you! And I love you and your little friends.” Susan called back. 

Hmm. Rodrick replayed all the times his mom embarrassed him in front of his friends in his mind. Like the time she lectured him very publicly and loudly about that risqué magazine of his. Or the time they came back to the house after a concert and she aggressively hugged the three boys to smell if they were smoking anything (Spoiler alert: they weren’t). Or the time she forced Rodrick to wear shin pads, elbow pads, a helmet, AND a mouth guard to the skatepark with his friends, even though they were just there to watch and not skate. 

“Dinner’s going to be ready in a minute! We’re having roasted artichoke salad.” She said happily. 

Note to self, order pizza later, Rodrick thought. There was a knock on the door. 

“I got it!” Rodrick said, jogging to the door. It swung open, and presented his grinning friends. Chris had a huge fuzzy body pillow and full comforter in his arms. Ben had an overstuffed backpack (probably filled with snacks and movies that Susan would NEVER approve of) and flip flops on. 

“What’s up dude!” Chris shifted the stuff he was carrying to one arm so he could fistbump Rodrick. He walked into the house and respectfully took his sneakers off by the door.

“Hey!” Ben said, also fistbumping Rodrick in greeting. Their touching knuckles lingered a bit before they pulled away. Ben moseyed in. He kicked off his flip flops and they hit the floor with a slap. 

They hurried down the hall to get the party started. “Wait! Are you boys hungry?” Susan asked, glancing around the corner. 

“No mom, we’re good!” Rodrick said. 

“Ok, have fun! Keep it PG please!” 

They ascended the stairs to Rodrick’s room. “But I’m hungry dude.” Ben whispered in confusion. 

Rodrick just shook his head. “Not for that dinner you’re not. We’ll eat something else.” Ben took his word for it. 

Chris took a running jump and landed on Rodrick’s bed with a grunt. He immediately went to work at wrapping himself into a Comfy Chris burrito with his comforter. Ben smiled and dug through his bag to pull out his panda pillow pet (the punkest pillow pet, duh). He also pulled out a pillow pet sized blanket, with which he wrapped the pillow pet up like a burrito and lovingly placed next to Chris. “Burrito bros!” Ben said, letting his fondness shine through. 

“K, I’m going to secretly order a pizza. The regular right? ⅓ vegan with mushrooms and bell peppers, ⅓ pineapple, and ⅓ sausage pepperoni?” Rodrick asked. 

“Yeah dude!” Chris said, he was craving that delicious slice of vegan pizza. Extra mushrooms. 

Rodrick flipped open his old 2009 flip phone and dialed. He held the phone to his ear as it rang. He said quickly to the guys, “Pick a movie while I get the ‘za.” He wandered to the corner of the room for some quiet. “Hey, Steve?” 

Ben sat down on the bed with Chris and dumped the remaining stuff out of his backpack. A mountain of R rated horror movies, tooth rotting candy, pre-popped popcorn, a couple cans of Dr. Pepper, and Ben’s pajamas spilled out all over the place. 

“Wow.” Chris said in amazement, referring to how much got shoved into there. Mary Poppins herself would’ve been impressed by the square footage his backpack had. 

Ben sifted through the movie options. “So I got _Elm Street 2_ and _3_ , _Halloween_ , _Scream 1_ and _2_ , ooh and this old VHS of _Re-animator_ from my mom’s collection! She’s got good taste.” He said in earnest. He went on, “I got _Repo!_ , and _The Fly_ , _The Crow_ ’s pretty good too. OH, but _this_ is what we’re gonna watch!” He held up his copy of _Evil Dead 2_ , excitedly showing it to Chris. 

“What’s it about?” Chris asked, unsure. He’d never heard of it. 

“Zombie-demons! And a guy with a chainsaw hand!”

“That’s sick.” Chris said, his interest piqued. He had to see this. 

“AND you don’t need to watch the first one since the second’s like a remake anyway! It’s killer.” Ben beamed, he couldn’t wait to show his friends the BEST horror movie ever made. 

Rodrick came back over and hung up the phone. “Pizza’s going to be here in fifteen. She said she’ll text us when she gets here. Wanna rock out until then?” He said with a raise of the eyebrow.

“Let’s go.” Ben said. Chris nodded in agreement. 

They rambunctiously made their way down the stairs. Rodrick, ever the trickster, stuck out his leg to trip Chris. Caught off guard, Chris slipped down a few steps before Ben caught him by the arms and stood him back up.

Chris whipped around and stared his aggressor down. “You wanna fight?” He challenged, but with no real bite to it. 

“Bring it on! I’ll win.” Rodrick said smugly. In a serious fight Chris would absolutely beat his ass. 

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” Ben egged them on from the bottom of the stairs, very curious to see how it’d play out. 

Chris rushed Rodrick and rammed into him with his shoulder, pushing him back up the stairs. Rodrick struggled to hold his ground and not let Chris push him backwards any further. 

“Oooh are you gonna take that?” Ben said to Rodrick. 

Rodrick huffed and puffed with effort. “Nng. Nn-no!” 

Chris was winning the stale-mate, slowly he started to force Rodrick down to the floor. In an act of desperation, Rodrick wrapped his leg around Chris’s ankle and pulled to try and knock him down. A look of fear fell over Chris’s face as he felt himself falling backwards down the stairs. He did a Matrix arm move to try and right himself, but to no avail. He was going down. At the very last moment he grabbed Rodrick’s arm, and the two tangled together and plummeted down the stairs. Ben jumped out of the way as the two landed with thunk at the bottom. The two untangled and pushed each other off. 

“I won.” Chris said, and he was right. 

Ben laughed at the anticlimactic ending of the lame fight. He pulled his friends to their feet. “You guys are dumb.” He smiled. 

“So are you.” Rodrick pointed out. 

“I know.” Ben said contentedly. Duh, that’s why they’re friends. 

The boys barged into the garage. Their safe haven, their place of work. The spot where their (futurely) famous band started. Rodrick made a beeline for his drum set, and played an idle improvised beat. Chris plugged in his bass sitting by the speaker and played a few crunchy chords to warm his fingers up. Ben switched on his electric. “Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.” He played the opening chords of Wonderwall lazily and haphazardly as a joke. 

“Shut up guys. Let’s play our song before the pizza gets here.” Rodrick asserted his leaderly duties. He clicked his drumsticks together three times, counting them in. He thrashed the drums for the opening notes. 

Chris ripped into the funkiest bass line he’s ever written. His fingers raked across the strings, eagerly keeping up with the song’s shredding tempo. His stance oozed cool-calm-and collected as his left hand jumped from fret to fret. He looked almost professional in his playing from the hours of rehearsing in the dingy old garage. 

Ben came in with an intense guitar slide. He whacked at the strings, fast and loud. His fingers sliding heavily over the strings gave the song a dirty grungy feel. He closed his eyes as he focused on playing. He felt the notes move through his whole body as he exhaled. The metallic sound of his guitar came together with the drums and bass, their dissonance somehow creating a sort of harmony. He strummed a few more notes, then began to sing. He screamed his vocals into an empty mic stand for an imaginary audience. Everything he had went into the song, he spewed out his emotions raw. 

Passion was pulsing through the air as the band played together, you could feel the love of the music. Chris and Ben turned expectantly to Rodrick as they played, his killer drum solo was coming up. He held his drumsticks above his head and twirled them in anticipation, twitching to have the spotlight. 

His sticks came crashing down. “I’ll show ‘em how it’s done.” Rodrick thought smugly. He banged out a few notes, and stopped completely. He checked his phone. 

The other two awkwardly stopped playing their instruments. “Hey! Why’d you do that? We had a groove going!” Ben protested. 

“Yeah, I still had two minutes of face melting bass line left.” Chris said. 

Rodrick held out his phone. “‘Cause the pizza’s here.”

“Ah, ok. Good reason.” Ben said. 

“Come on.” Rodrick led them out, they walked into the living room. 

Chris rubbed his hands together with excitement, he was hungry baby! He reached for the front door. 

“Wait!” Rodrick whispered, trying to keep quiet to not alert his parents. “Just one second.” He turned and sprinted up the stairs.

“What’s that about?” Ben wondered. Chris shrugged in response. 

A few seconds later Rodrick came quickly down the stairs, arms full of black fabric. “Put these on!” He said. He had three identical black hoodies of his. He handed them over. 

“Why?” Chris asked. 

“We’re trying to be sneaky! Be on the down low. I don’t want my mom to know we got pizza and hurt her feelings.” Rodrick slipped the hoodie on over his head. 

“Gotcha.” Ben put his hoodie on.

Chris saw no reason to NOT wear it. He pulled his on too. 

“Ready?” Rodrick said. He took in the other two’s outfits. Chris was taller than Rodrick, so the hoodie was almost a crop top on him. Ben was smaller and shorter than Rodrick, the hoodie was a tiny bit long on him and the sleeves went past his hands. 

“Ready.” The two affirmed. 

Rodrick pulled the hoodie strings taut and covered his face, his friends followed suit. He opened the door, and the three snuck out into the night. 

They slunk down the middle of the road, only able to see through the piercing dark by the street lights shining on the sidewalk. All was silent, except for the slap of Ben’s flip flops against the pavement. 

“Down low dude!” Rodrick said. 

“Sorry! I wasn’t expecting to be ninja silent on the street in the middle of the night! If I was, I would’ve worn my Docs.” They kept on walking. The gap between them and the house became daunting. Through the dark Rodrick’s house wasn’t visible anymore. 

“Where are we even going? This seems really far away for pizza.” Ben asked, worry slightly seeping into his voice.

“Just a little farther. She said she’s down by that tree.” Rodrick pointed. A huge oak tree stood forebodingly on the dark street corner. Its snarled limbs reached out into the night, beckoning them closer. Underneath it on the street sat an idle car, dead silent with no lights on. 

“You’re sure that’s our food?” Said Ben, getting freaked by the thought that the car could have some scary murderer dude in it or something. 

“Yeah, maybe.” Rodrick said, doing nothing to reassure Ben. He walked up to the ominous car and rapped twice on the window. Ben braced for the worst, while Chris thought about how hungry he was. 

The car abruptly came to life. The lights flashed on and the radio blared folk punk music. The lights revealed the mysterious stranger; a girl their age, with striking orange hair and vitiligo. She rolled her window down.

“Pizza Steve! What’s up?” Rodrick greeted. The two flashed each other finger guns like they knew each other well. 

“Wait, you know her?” Ben asked, confused. 

“Yeah, we met when I worked at the alt pizza place downtown for like two weeks. Now we’re bros and I get half priced pizza.”

“This guy was always getting speeding tickets on the clock and eating pizzas before they were delivered.” She said, poking Rodrick in the chest in a joking accusation. “But I always saved his ass.”

“Until I got fired.” Rodrick said. 

“Which was too bad. I kinda miss you at work messing everything up, now I just do my job well.” She smiled. 

She turned her attention to the other boys.“I’m Stevie.” She winked at them. “But some of my friends call me Pizza Steve.” 

“Why Pizza Steve?’ Ben said.

Stevie snort laughed. “Babe, because I deliver pizzas and have orange hair!” She thought Ben was sweet.

“Oh, yeah. Right.” He said sheepishly. He blushed, hoping the darkness hid it. 

“Speaking of,” Stevie said, reaching into the backseat. “Here’s your guys’ nasty pizza.” She handed it out. 

“Don’t ‘nasty pizza’ me, this pizza is art!” Rodrick said. It had taken them three years to put together what they thought was the perfect, ultimate, pizza. “Don’t hate it til you try it.”

“I might have to take you up on that, some other time.” She said. “Maybe it’ll be the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” She didn’t have much faith in that, though.

“Oh it will, trust me.” Rodrick said seriously. “Here’s the cash for it.” He gave her folded bills. He checked his other pocket for her tip. 

“Ugh, I forgot to grab your cash on my way out.” He said. “I’ll be right back.” He started walking back but Chris grabbed his shoulder and stopped him. 

“I got it.” Chris said, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket. It would take Rodrick way too long and he wanted this pizza NOW. He held out way more cash than she usually would get as a tip to be nice. 

She took that too and put it in the car’s glove box. “Dude thank you! That’s super generous.” She turned back to look at him. “I like your glasses by the way.”

A small bashful look crept onto his face. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, any time.” She said.

“Anywho.” She addressed all of them. “I gotta motor. Hope you enjoy your pizza. It was nice meeting you two!” She said to Ben and Chris. She went to switch gears when Ben interrupted her. 

“Wait! One more question before you go.” He said. 

“Ask away.”

“Why were you sitting in the dark like a creeper? I thought you were gonna kidnap us or something.”

She laughed again. This kid was full of random questions.“I was sitting in the dark because y’all were taking too long and I’m running out of gas. Delivering pizza doesn’t really rake in the gas money. Also, Rodrick texted me to ‘be on the down low’ or whatever. Sorry I scared you.”

“That’s ok, I wasn’t scared.” Ben lied. 

“Mmhm.” She said, unconvinced. “Well, catch you guys on the flip side! Work’s a calling.” She waved goodbye, and shifted gears to drive responsibly away. 

“She’s so cool.” Chris thought aloud, pizza in hand. 

\-----------------

The three sat on Rodrick’s bed, cozy as could be. They were wrapped in Chris’s comforter, the empty pizza box discarded to the side. The TV lights danced and flashed across their faces in the dark. _Evil Dead 2_ filled the spaces of silence with cheesy horror nonsense. 

Ben sat enraptured.“Isn’t this the best movie?” He asked, not really looking for an answer. Chris poured popcorn into his mouth from the backpack stash. 

“Yeah,, it’s sick.” Rodrick said, trying to prove he was watching it. He’d never admit it, but he was way too jumpy for horror and had absolutely no stomach for blood. Every so often he would duck his head behind Ben to avoid anything spooky. Or he would lean his head on Ben’s shoulder and close his eyes, hoping no one would notice. 

Ben noticed. 

“Hey, do you need me to move over?” He said, not used to this amount of touch from his friend. He thought Rodrick just needed more room.

Rodrick squirmed. “No, you’re good. I’m just… falling asleep a little.” He lied.

“Ok.” Ben said simply. He didn’t mind Rodrick’s head on his shoulder, it was kinda nice. 

Rodrick was instantly calmed by Ben’s chillness with the situation. For a fleeting moment he forgot all about how weird he felt about his friend lately. He leaned into Ben a bit more, making himself comfortable. He closed his eyes against the movie, but he was at ease. He was warm, comfortable, and with the people he cared about most. 

The three were content. And in that moment they worried about nothing. Not the battle of the bands, or their relationship status, or school, or the future, nothing. They were happy, but totally unaware of all that was to come. And for now, they were ok with that. 


End file.
